Short Trips
by dragonwings948
Summary: A nice little ongoing collection of short stories all written from Clara's POV. Written as part of an ask blog collab on Tumblr with Left-Handed Lemon. Main focus is the 12th Doctor and Clara's friendship (and a lot of feels and laughter). Set in between Season 8 and 9. Newest story: Something about Snow. A beautiful, relaxing trip goes horribly wrong...
1. Intro

**A/N: You still might be a little confused as to what this is exactly, so let me shine some light on the subject. **

**Question: Have you ever wondered what the Doctor and Clara would be like on Tumblr?**

**Answer: Even if you haven't, you don't have to. Because Left-Handed Lemon and I did a thing and teamed up with our respective ask blogs on Tumblr! Left-Handed Lemon created a 12th Doctor ask blog (ask-crotchety-twelve) that is absolutely AMAZING, so I was inspired and thought it would be cool if I created a Clara ask blog (askimpossiblegirl). And then, BOOM! We teamed up and it's awesome. **

**Anyway, so we post the stories originally on our ask blogs (askimpossiblegirl stories are all from Clara's POV and ask-crotchety-twelve stories are all from the Doctor's) and then post them on here. So, basically, all of my stories are from Clara's POV. Left-Handed Lemon writes all of the stories from the Doctor's POV (and they are INCREDIBLE and AWESOME).**

**All in all, this should be extremely exciting. I'll shut up now. **


	2. All I Wanted

**All I Wanted...**

...was a relaxing day at the beach.

I almost got it.

To his credit, the Doctor actually did land the TARDIS on a nice beach. It was beautiful when I poked my head out of the TARDIS; clear blue water, open sky, two bright suns, and miles of sand, all tinted a dark purple through my sunglasses.

"You did it!" I looked up at him with a grin and tightened my hold on the folding chair under my arm. I hopped out from the threshold of the TARDIS and into the sand, sighing with content as my bare feet sank into the warm surface.

"Of course I did," the Doctor replied with a frown, always the spoiler of moods. He stuffed his hands in his pockets - his normal pockets I might add, since he insisted on wearing his signature coat and trousers even though we were going to a beach - and stepped out of the TARDIS, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I looked him over as he gazed at me in question, as if waiting for me to take the lead. He looked the same as always, as I already mentioned, not even carrying a chair or anything. I looked down at myself - glass of lemonade clutched in one hand, chair under the other arm, wearing a blue sundress - and smiled a little at the pair we made.

The Doctor sighed. "The smiling again. You have no reason to smile right now, and yet there you go. Again," he added as my smile grew wider.

"We're at the beach, Doctor! What isn't there to smile about?" But then I frowned as I studied the picturesque scene once more. "Doctor? Where are all the people?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "Maybe they're at school or work or whatever it is they do. They're a very busy race, you know, the Targs-"

I squinted at him. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Positive," he said with a nod.

I really wanted to believe him, so I did. I unfolded my chair and settled myself on top of it, basking in the warm light of the suns (which, actually, wasn't any hotter than our single sun). The Doctor crouched down a few steps away and started drawing patterns in the sand.

I almost fell asleep, but then the Doctor started muttering about how bright it was.

"Here." I tossed him my sunglasses, figuring if I was going to sleep, I wouldn't need them anyway. He picked them up and held them as if they were some foreign object, and then slowly put them on.

I giggled at the sight of him in those big sunglasses (I really should have taken a picture) and then drifted off to sleep.

"Freeze!"

I gasped as the booming voice pulled me out of a very pleasant dream. I blinked, and then squeezed my eyes closed against the harsh sunlight. After a moment I squinted up into the sky and saw a rather large circular spaceship hovering above us.

"Doctor!" I hissed, looking over to see him surrounded by sandcastles. His dark clothes were spotted with grains of sand and he still wore my sunglasses as he looked up at the spaceship.

His head snapped toward me. "I think it's about time we run."

I sighed and jumped up, grabbing the lemonade in one hand and the chair in the other. Luckily, this time, we had stayed close to the TARDIS. I ran a few steps toward the blue box, but suddenly a ring of light encircled it and it was gone.

I skidded to a stop and looked back at the Doctor. "Teleportation beam," he muttered, pushing the sunglasses onto his head as he gazed upward. "And I think we're next."

"Drop your weapon or we will have to use force," the amplified voice called down once more.

I looked down at myself, laden with lemonade and a chair, and then over at the Doctor, whose hands were empty. "What weapon?" I asked the Doctor.

His tremendous grey eyebrows furrowed as his eyes trained on me.

"We will not warn you again," the voice from the ship continued.

"Doctor!" I pressed my lips together, thinking. The chair could be used as a weapon, potentially. I dropped it into the sand and waited for the Doctor to say something.

"The lemonade," he muttered.

I raised my eyebrows and took a step toward him. "What?"

The Doctor's eyes suddenly grew wide and he launched himself at me, knocking the glass of lemonade from my hand. Almost as soon as I saw it hit the ground, a really unpleasant tingly feeling came over my skin and the scene of the beach blurred into the inside of a spaceship.

I shuddered, closing my eyes for a moment and brushing the Doctor's arm with mine to make sure he was there. "Let's never do that again."

"You will remain silent."

I looked down toward the voice and saw an alien that looked just like a green frog standing on its hind legs, only it was about a meter high. It pointed some sort of small, bulky gun in my direction, and several more of the aliens stood behind it and did the same.

"Lemon juice," I whispered through my teeth, shooting a glare in the Doctor's direction, though he was too focused on the aliens to notice. I remembered reading something about how lemon juice was poisonous, possibly even fatal, to frogs.

"You are under arrest," the frog alien said in a croaking voice, "for trespassing on the King's property and carrying the Forbidden Weapon."

Well, to skip all the boring stuff, they took us somewhere in the ship and we got put in the King's own prison. The Doctor and I argued about whose fault this all was until the King himself stopped outside of our cell and smiled.

"Doctor!" he exclaimed like he was greeting an old friend. The Doctor looked at me and shrugged, probably meaning he actually hadn't met the Frog King yet. "I hope my prisons will pass your inspection this time?"

The Doctor didn't miss a beat. "We'll see." He swiped a finger over the metal wall and wrinkled his nose. "A bit dusty. And musty. But it just might pass."

The Frog King frowned. "But what were you doing with the Forbidden Weapon?"

"That was my…assistant inspector," the Doctor said, gesturing to me. "I got stuck with her on this job. She was the only assistant left available, so I had to take her, even though she's a bit ignorant. You'll have to excuse her. She's really not the brightest."

You can imagine the glare I gave him then, especially when I saw his lips press together like he was trying to hide a smile.

Well, the Frog King believed it (the Doctor kept telling me afterwards that they weren't frogs, they were _Targs_, but I still call them frogs anyway) and the Doctor told him that the prisons passed the inspection. They gave us back the TARDIS and we went on our way.

The Doctor kept insisting it was my fault for wanting lemonade. But, as you can clearly see, he was the one who forgot that lemon juice and frogs don't really go well together.

Well, maybe one of these days he won't get us into trouble wherever we go.

Not likely, though, is it?


	3. Always

_A/N: A little background if you don't read the blogs (but you should read them because they're awesome!). Someone asked the 12th Doctor a question about his family and Susan, and it made him a little sad. So he asked Clara if she wanted to go on a trip, maybe to meet a famous author or something, and Clara suggested Charlotte Brontë. And so our story begins. _

**Always. **

"Any minute…" I muttered to myself, drumming my fingers on my knee. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the message the Doctor had sent me on Tumblr a few minutes before (since he seems to prefer that to texting now).

_Should be there in a minute unless something goes wrong. Which it shouldn't. Oh, and you might want to stay out of your bedroom, like I said. The TARDIS has been a bit temperamental since the quarantine, and I could miss the landing a bit. Wouldn't want her to materialize on top of you. That would be…interesting._

I sighed as I read through the message again. At that moment, it really wouldn't have surprised me if he showed up tomorrow on accident. Or, that night when I was asleep, in which case I would throw a pillow at him and tell him to come back in the morning.

(If you can't tell, those have both happened before. More than once, I might add).

But, as I began considering the possibilities, that mechanical groaning sound, the sound that I love more than anything, filled my flat. I jumped up from the sofa and skipped across the room, flinging open my bedroom door. I skidded to a stop just inside, looking up at the TARDIS, which towered over the room from its position on top of my bed. The Doctor filled the frame of the single open door, his arms crossed and a small smile painting his features.

"Hello," was all he said in a subdued voice.

"…Hey…" I said uncertainly, taking in his expression and his stance. I knew he had been thinking about his family and his granddaughter recently, and I wondered if it was still troubling him. Normally, by this point, he would be running around the TARDIS and giving me a thorough background of the place we were going next.

"So. Charlotte Brontë. Good choice, early 19th century England. Come on." He turned, walking slower than usual, and waved me into the TARDIS.

I clambered on top of my bed and walked into the TARDIS, noticing the lights were a bit dimmer than normal. I closed the door behind me as the Doctor circled the console, readying the TARDIS for flight. His expression remained grim and somber; not even a flicker of excitement shone in his eyes.

"Doctor?" I asked as I walked to the console.

He raised his eyebrows but remained focused on a knob he was turning. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" What a stupid question; of course he wasn't okay.

A humorless chuckle emanated from his throat. "I am many things, Clara Oswald," he muttered as he turned a lever clockwise, "but I'm never okay."

The TARDIS engines began to rumble. I reached over and switched the lever back, making the room go silent. The Doctor paused for a moment, looking down at the console and pressing his lips together like he was contemplating moving the TARDIS into motion once more.

"Hey," I said softly, trying to get his attention. When that didn't work, I placed my hand on top of his, which was gripping the edge of the console. He didn't flinch – he's been getting better at the whole touching thing – but finally turned his head to look at me in question.

"Do you want to, I don't know, talk about it?" I offered. I always hated seeing him like this, when it was obvious that his thoughts were literally eating away at him.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and then straightened, pulling his hand away. "What I really want to do is get my mind off of it." Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he nudged me aside and once more pushed the lever which activated the TARDIS.

Getting a little aggravated now, I leaned over him and pushed the lever back. "No."

He gave me an incredulous look, his eyes wide and gawking.

"Yeah," I said before he had a chance to ask. "I did just tell you no. I'm not letting you go anywhere like this."

The Doctor set his jaw, sparks in his eyes. "Well then, we're still in your flat," he growled. _"Leave." _His face fell just the smallest bit after he said it, as if he had just realized what had come out of his mouth.

I tried not to let his words hurt because I knew he didn't mean it, but they still stung the tiniest bit. I reached out my hand, my heart hurting for him. "Doctor-"

"No no no," he said, stepping back and waving a hand at me, "shut up before I say something else stupid. I don't like it when my mouth says something I don't agree with." He ran his hands over his face and squeezed his eyes shut.

I went after him, realizing I'd never seen him this upset. "Doctor, just-"

"I miss them, Clara." His voice was muffled through his hands, but I could have sworn his voice broke when he said my name. _My _Doctor. Broken.

He sighed and leaned back against the railing, bracing himself with his hands. All the steam seemed to dissipate out of him and he hung his head. "Can you imagine it?" he muttered. "Not knowing whether your children are alive or dead? Even my granddaughter who I cared about more than anyone else – no idea where she is. Grandfather indeed," he chuckled sardonically.

I stepped toward him, slowly and carefully, until I could wrap my arms around him in a hug. He sighed (since he's come to accept I'm going to hug him whether he likes it or not) and did the last thing I expected: hugged me back.

"I know it wouldn't do just to say 'it's okay,' because it's not." I couldn't imagine, after 2,000 years, all the grief this single man had had to withstand. "You have more cause than anyone else in the universe to be sad, Doctor. But you keep going anyway. So I think it's okay if you let yourself be sad sometimes."

I couldn't help but reflect on my own losses. _You can miss me for five minutes a day. _Even though my mum and Danny didn't even begin to compare to what the Doctor had lost over the years, I could at least begin to relate to what he felt.

"I think we have to, to remember them," I continued. Suddenly I needed the hug, too, and squeezed him tighter, trying to combat the oncoming tears stinging my eyes.

It was quiet for a moment. I don't think either of us really had to say anything. We were both grieving, and there was nothing we could say or do to make it better; well, except to just be there with each other. Somehow, having the Doctor there made it bearable.

"Okay, I think this is a bit long for the hugging," the Doctor muttered eventually.

I smiled and chuckled, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away to measure his expression. There was a little more life in his eyes, but I knew he could still use some cheering up.

"Come on, then," I said, walking around the console toward the door that led deeper into the TARDIS.

There was silence for a moment, but then the Doctor's footsteps clanked on the metal floor. "Where are we going?"

"Kitchen." I turned and smiled at him, slowing a little to allow for him to catch up.

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"So I can make us some tea." _Tea is the best cure for anything, _my gran had always said as a sort of joke.

"What about Charlotte Brontë?"

"Some other time."

He nodded his assent and pursed his lips. "Clara?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

The Doctor smiled a little. "Thank you. And…I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

I grinned in return, looping my arm through his and nudging my shoulder against his arm. "I know. And thank you, Doctor." There was no way I'd ever be able to express how grateful I was for him. "Thank you for being my friend."

I thought he wasn't going to say anything at first, but then I could just barely hear him mutter, "Always, Clara Oswald."


	4. Soggy Popcorn is Better than None

_A/N:_ _(Thanks Ryu Kitsune Bard84 for bringing up a point which I forgot to include in the author's note!) If you don't read the blogs, Clara asked the Doctor if he had been using her Netflix to watch Call the Midwife (an idea which came from a Doctor Who book called The Blood Cell, in which the 12th Doctor talks about how he loves to watch Call the Midwife at one point, which I thought was hilarious). The Doctor said he easily figured out her Netflix password and had, in fact, been watching Call the Midwife. Since Clara says she has never seen the show, they agree to have a marathon in the TARDIS. _This_ story follows just after Left-Handed Lemon's latest story in Short Trips, Number 2, so make sure you read it! :)_

**Soggy Popcorn is Better than None**

After the Doctor and I got away from that abandoned – or _not _abandoned – spaceship, after I spent a night on the TARDIS with the Doctor close by… I thought I had erased the monsters from my mind.

But, turns out I was wrong.

* * *

_My mind crept slowly into consciousness. A tingle ran down my spine. An uneasy feeling that I knew all too well settled itself into my stomach. Somehow, I knew something wasn't right. _

_ I opened my eyes, silently observing my bedroom. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and yet…_

_ A shadow scurried across my carpet. I turned to look at what I had seen from the corner of my eye, but nothing was there. I swallowed hard, suddenly very awake._

They're here,_ I thought to myself with surprising calm. Perhaps it was the familiarity of the location, curled up underneath my blankets. I _had_ to be safe here. _

_ But my sense knew otherwise. There was a small part of my mind that knew I was as good as dead, a tiny corner which had already accepted the inevitable. It was ironic how I had felt this same feeling not too long ago, when one of the same creatures had latched onto my jacket. But this time I knew I was doomed, because the Doctor was probably light years away. _

_Yet, though fear was beginning to permeate my entire being from top to bottom, I couldn't help but feel a little cheated. I had always hoped that when I died, it would be by the Doctor's side; or, better yet, in front of him, taking a blow that should have been his. After all I had done for the universe, it was what I deserved. _

_ As the Doctor always says, the universe isn't fair. _

_ Instead, I was crippled by fear. Literally frozen. I considered going into action, trying to run away, reaching for my phone to call the Doctor, but my body wouldn't respond. I was the perfect prey. _

_ I closed my eyes, beginning to tremble. "I don't want to die," I whispered pitifully to myself. _

_ The shadow darted out from underneath my bed. And then it lunged at me. _

_"Clara!" _

I sucked in a quick breath and opened my eyes. The Doctor stood over me, his eyes wide and his arms stretched toward me.

"I heard your accelerated heartbeat so I assumed you were having a-"

I jumped up and hugged him, sighing as I felt the familiar fabric of his coat underneath my fingertips. "Doctor," I breathed, squeezing him tighter as memories from my nightmare flickered to the forefront of my mind.

The Doctor cleared his throat, remaining stiff as I rested my forehead on his shoulder. "I've been having them too," he murmured in a low voice.

I pulled away from him and settled my hands on his shoulders. "Saw your post on Tumblr." I swallowed, realizing that my voice was shaking. The Doctor's eyes softened after I spoke, and I knew he had noticed. "You've been sleepin'?" The nightmare began to fade as I became more concerned about the Doctor. Now that I was paying attention, I noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes and his weary frown.

"Trying to. When I turn off the lights…"

We were both silent for a moment. There was no need for me to ask what the Doctor was thinking about. All I could think of was the moment when the _thing _had grabbed hold of my jacket and complete dread had slowly crept through me…

I shuddered and again tried to focus my mind on something else. "When was the last time you slept, Doctor?"

"A week. Or is it two?" He ran a hand over his face, shaking my hands from his shoulders. "Not sure."

"I think even the last of the time lords has to sleep sometimes." I squinted at him, suddenly remembering waking up from the dream. "Why are you here?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Marathon, remember? Only," he added, his eyes roaming over the dark room, "I got it a bit wrong."

"No you didn't." I smiled. "You came just at the right time."

He returned a quick smile, and then rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining eagerly. "So. _Call the Midwife?" _

I glanced at the clock by my bedside, reading 2:39 AM. "Now?"

The Doctor shrugged. "You don't want to go back to sleep now, do you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut as the terrifying images came back into my mind. No, I certainly did not want to go back to sleep now. Besides, the shock had woken me up, and once I drank some coffee I could be awake for hours.

Blinking open my eyes, I stared into the Doctor's wondering gaze. _"Call the Midwife _it is, then. But only if you remembered the popcorn," I quipped as I slid off the edge of my bed.

The Doctor backed toward the TARDIS to give me room. "Well, I might have gotten a bit…distracted…"

"'Course you did." I shot him a reprimanding gaze. "It's not really a marathon without popcorn."

Leaning against the TARDIS, the Doctor crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "A problem that is easily fixed, Miss Oswald. I know just the place." He turned and pushed open the TARDIS door.

"If we're going somewhere, I need to change," I called into the TARDIS as I looked in my mirror, gathering my hair up into a ponytail.

"You'll just look the same anyway," the Doctor replied, and though I couldn't see him, I could imagine the waving hand motion that had almost surely accompanied his statement.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Despite what I had tried to tell him, he still knew absolutely nothing about the point of different clothes, new hairstyles, or just about anything that normal human beings did.

"I know you probably just rolled your eyes or did a thing that made you feel clever, but it will only take a few minutes. We're just fetching some popcorn since apparently it is _essential _to this marathon."

I couldn't help but smile to myself at how well he knew me; _better than anyone else, _I thought. Looking down at my tank top and sweatpants, (it had been a long night of marking) I sighed and grabbed the brand new jacket from my closet, threw it over my shoulders, and walked into the TARDIS.

"Where are we goin'?" I asked as I closed the creaking door behind me.

"Springmielies," the Doctor replied, turning a lever that made the TARDIS begin to dematerialize.

I raised my voice to be heard over the grating, wheezing noise. _"Spring _what?" Reaching the console, I peeked at the monitor. However, like usual, I couldn't make any sense of it.

"Springmielies, the planet. Haven't been there in ages. But do you know what its main export is?" He raised his eyebrows and grinned at me.

I connected the dots in my head and stared at him across the console. "Popcorn? Seriously?"

"Popcorn!" he repeated as the TARDIS announced their arrival. "They claim to have the best popcorn in the universe." However, his excited grin melted into a frown as the TARDIS continued whining, longer than usual.

I swiveled the monitor over to him, wondering what could be going wrong this time. After what had happened the last time I was on the TARDIS, I began to feel a little apprehensive.

"Ooooh," the Doctor muttered with a frown, his bushy eyebrows drawing together. "Not good."

"What's not good?" When he didn't respond, I walked around the console and stood next to him, craning my neck to see an image on the monitor of a wide open plain with all sorts of spaceships packed together side by side.

"No parking," the Doctor explained. "We're going to have to walk a bit." He managed a few controls on the console, and finally the TARDIS landed with a decisive thump. "Come on," the Doctor beckoned, walking toward the doors. "You could use the exercise anyway."

I huffed, following behind him. "You know, a lot of people would smack you for some of the things you say."

"Yes, and a lot of people _do." _The Doctor pulled open the door and stepped into tall green grass, pausing just outside of the doors as he looked around.

Poking my head out, I glanced at the clear blue sky and single pale sun. A light wind tousled my hair and raised goosebumps on my arm. I stepped out of the TARDIS with a shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me.

The sea of spaceships I had seen on the monitor stretched as far as I could see before me, all of them different shapes, sizes, and colors. "Why are there so many people here?"

"It's Springmielies' Popcorn Festival, only happens once a year." He began walking into the mass of spaceships. "Well, one year for them, which would be about a year and a half for us," he continued as I fell in step beside him. "It's one of the biggest markets in the universe."

We did have to walk quite a bit (while the Doctor pointed out every spaceship we passed and explained where it came from), probably a kilometer or two, before we emerged from the spaceships and into a patch of cleared out land with brightly colored tents.

I don't really know how to describe it; if you picture the biggest market you've ever seen, and multiply that by a thousand, maybe that would just begin to cover it. The Popcorn Festival began at the edge of the "parking" and stretched as far the eye could see in all other directions. All sorts of aliens were walking around and talking amiably with each other, ordering different types of popcorn from the thousands of tents.

"How can there be…_this _much popcorn?" I wondered out loud as the Doctor and I paused at the entrance.

"Oh, it's not just popcorn. It's just like an Earth carnival with rides and games and useless things to spend your money on. But the popcorn tents go on for about a kilometer before you get there." The Doctor looked on with his arms crossed like he had seen it all before. Which, in all fairness, I was sure he had.

But I was fascinated that in front of me was an entire festival, probably the size of London, dedicated solely to popcorn. I smiled and grabbed the Doctor's arm, tugging him toward the first tent. "This was a bad idea…" I heard him mutter behind me.

It took around an hour of browsing before we agreed on popcorn that would satisfy us both. The sample we tried was sweet at first, which I liked, but then turned spicy just before you swallowed it, which the Doctor immensely enjoyed.

But, after it had taken us so long to get to this point, there was just one problem: payment.

"You should've thought of that before we left the TARDIS!" I hissed at the Doctor as we stood inside one of the tents.

"You should have reminded me!" he countered, cradling a large bag of reddish tinted popcorn.

After emptying out his pockets and asking the owner of the tent if he could trade for anything he had, the Doctor hung his head and sighed, setting the popcorn back down on a table.

"Wait!" the shopkeeper said as we turned our backs. He pointed one of his three-fingered hands at me. "I'll take that jacket as payment."

I looked down at my new blue jacket and ran my hand over the soft material covering my arm. "But-"

"Clara," the Doctor implored, his eyes wide and innocent as he stared at me, "this is no time to be sentimental over a piece of clothing."

I almost protested, but I could see that eager, childish look in the Doctor's eyes that reminded me so much of the last version of him. I knew he wanted that popcorn, and I knew the shopkeeper would be stubborn enough not to take anything else. Besides, I could just get a new jacket…again.

"Here." I shrugged the jacket off of my shoulders and handed it to the shopkeeper. The Doctor smiled wide, clutching the popcorn to his chest.

"Thank you!" the alien exclaimed as he fingered the article of clothing. "Come back again!"

And that was when the chaos started.

Alarms began blaring and I jumped, training an accusing gaze on the Doctor. "What's happening?" I asked as I watched the shopkeeper's eyes go wide.

The Doctor looked up at the sky. "Oh," was all he said.

I raised my eyebrows and tried to catch his gaze. "Oh? That's all you can say?"

"Clara," the Doctor said in a calm voice, a stark contrast to the aliens hustling and bustling all around us. "I think we need to run."

Aliens began to crowd out of the Popcorn Festival toward the parking area. The mob was like getting into a theme park, only much worse. There was no way we would make it back to the TARDIS in less than an hour, maybe even two or three.

"Doctor-"

"Run!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the crowd, weaving through the throngs of people.

The wind picked up, causing me to shiver despite the running and the thousands of bodies pressed close together. I rubbed my hands over my bare arms, starting to regret the decision of giving up my jacket, 'best popcorn in the universe' or not.

In mere minutes, ominous grey clouds gathered in the sky, bringing thunder in their wake. The Doctor was still tugging me along, making his way through the crowd at an alarming rate. Though the way it had come on so quickly was a little concerning, I wondered what was so bad about a simple storm…

…until lightning touched down several meters away and people began screaming.

A clap of thunder echoed all around, so loud it seemed to shake the very ground we stood on. A few seconds later, pouring rain followed, drenching me completely within a minute. The air turned frigid, and I began to shiver. Thankfully, the crowd thinned at the entrance to the spaceship parking and the Doctor and I could really run.

The terrifying lightning was scarce, and mostly far away, which was good. But it was bad enough with the freezing cold air and wind, which only grew colder, and icy rain on top of that. Eventually, after we had been running for some time along others who raced to get into their ships, the Doctor and I paused under the wing of a rather large spaceship. We hadn't spoken a word since he had said 'run'; we had been too busy doing just that.

"What…is going on?" I panted, bracing my arms on my knees and trying to catch my breath.

"Springmielies' storms are terrible and very long," the Doctor explained, sounding a little winded himself, "but they rarely happen and they're very unpredictable. They can show up at any moment just like this."

I sighed, resorting to chafing my arms to try and stay warm. "Haven't you learned by now to check the weather _before _we leave the TARDIS?"

He didn't answer, but looked down at the bag of popcorn he held in one arm. After a moment, he glanced back up at me and frowned. "Are you cold?"

"Of course I'm cold!" I began to wring out my dripping hair, though I knew we still had a bit of a ways before we reached the TARDIS. My voice rose in annoyance, especially since I knew this whole scenario could have been easily prevented. "I traded my new jacket for that bloody popcorn that's probably soggy by now!"

"You're the one who wanted popcorn in the first place," the Doctor countered, clutching the bag defensively.

I sighed, knowing it was no use to waste my breath on arguing. We both thought it was each other's fault, and we couldn't be convinced otherwise. I took one more deep breath and looked out into the gloomy rain. "Should we get going again?" I asked without turning around.

"Yes," the Doctor muttered as I heard a rustle. I almost turned around, but then I felt a small weight on my shoulders as warmth encompassed me. I looked down to see the Doctor's coat draped over me, reaching to my knees. The inside was completely dry, and some of his body heat still radiated from it.

I looked up at him in concern, only his white collared shirt left to protect him against the rain. "Will you get cold?"

"Of course not. Time lord," he said simply.

I squinted at him and frowned. "And we both know that time lords can still get very sick."

The Doctor sighed and shook his head, dispelling droplets of water from his sodden hair. "I'll be fine, _mum." _

I smiled down at the warm coat and pushed my arms through the sleeves, the enveloping warmth sending a shiver down my spine. "Look," I said, turning to face him and waving my arms inside the sleeves (since they were much too long), "I'm you!"

"Ha ha," he said without conviction, though a smile twitched at his lips. _"Very _funny. Now shall we continue running back to the TARDIS?" He held his hand out to me and raised his eyebrows.

I buttoned up the coat and pushed up the sleeve so that I could place my hand in his. "Thank you," I said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, and then nodded toward the rain ahead. "Let's go."

* * *

I sighed as I dropped onto the couch, my eyelids beginning to droop on their own. I became only too aware that I had only had a few precious hours of sleep before the whole popcorn ordeal.

"You can't go to sleep!" the Doctor protested from beside me. "We haven't even started yet."

"I told you," I said with a smirk, "it's not a marathon without popcorn."

The Doctor picked up a still dripping bag of popcorn from the ground. "We have popcorn! It's just…a bit soggy."

I laughed as I looked at the pitiful state of 'the universe's best popcorn.' "Well, soggy popcorn is better than none, at least."

Raising an eyebrow at me, the Doctor set the bag back on the ground. "You're still wearing my coat."

"I know." I wrapped my arms around myself and smiled. "I like it. Think I might keep it. It's only fair after you made me lose two jackets in a row."

He frowned and reached down to the ground again, only to produce a steaming mug this time. The smell of coffee wafted to my nose and I instantly perked up a little. "Trade?" he asked, one eyebrow crooked in question.

"Coffee?" I frowned at him. "You made me coffee?"

The Doctor shrugged. "What else was I supposed to do while you wasted half of your life taking a shower? Honestly, I don't know what takes you so long. Do you fall asleep in there or something?"

I rolled my eyes and wriggled his coat from my shoulders. "It's a human thing. You wouldn't understand."

The Doctor grabbed his coat from my hands and handed me the mug of coffee. I took a small sip while he donned his favorite article of clothing, noting that he knew how I liked my coffee. I glanced over at him after he had finished buttoning the coat, smiling at the look of pleasure on his face.

"Better now?" I asked, grinning at him over the mug.

He sighed and leaned back into the couch cushion. "Yes. Much better." He nodded at the TV in front of us, Netflix already on the screen. "Shall we begin?"

"Yeah. But," I added, looking over at him, "no spoilers this time. You can't tell me who's gonna die and which guy ends up with which girl or anything. Okay?"

The Doctor just grinned mischievously and started the episode.


	5. The Parasite

Well, after we dealt with the Doctor's pen in the hands of William Shakespeare (a story which he'll tell you eventually), we went straight to 19th century England; after I changed into appropriate clothing of course, which the Doctor scoffed at. However, when I walked back into the console room, the Doctor gave me the strangest of looks as he glanced over me.

"What is it?" I asked, looking down at my maroon colored dress and running a hand quickly down the patterned front. I touched the top of my head, wondering if any hairs had come out of their places in my careful styling. Normally the Doctor didn't give a care to what I wore. In fact, sometimes he didn't even notice I wore anything different.

He shook his head and waved a hand at me. "Nothing," he muttered, busying himself with studying the console monitor.

"No," I said, walking to the console and leaning my hip against it. "You can't just look at me like that and say nothin'."

"It's not relevant."

I frowned at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Cheer up!" He looked at me with excitement in his eyes. "It's the big trip! Charlotte Brontë!"

"Fine," I sighed, "but I'm not lettin' it go."

The Doctor pushed the monitor away. "Of course not." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Do you have your book?"

"Oh!" I reached for where I had placed my copy of _Jane Eyre _on the console. "Thank you."

"Good. Now let's go." The Doctor walked to the doors and pulled one open, revealing a sunny day on the English countryside. The field the TARDIS was parked in was picturesque, filled with white flowers and bright green grass. A stone-paved road passed close by, though not a person or carriage was in sight.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, following the Doctor into the field.

He paused for a moment, his head swiveling around in all directions. "Afternoon tea," he replied absentmindedly.

"Seriously?" I giggled at the thought that entered my head. "Are we going to join Charlotte Brontë for tea?"

"There's no better time to visit famous authors from Victorian England."

I followed his gaze down the road where, in the distance, a large church stood fairly close to a house made of brown brick. "Is that it?" I wondered.

"Yes."

I narrowed my gaze at him. "Are you sure?"

"Well…mostly."

I turned and looked in the other direction, where the road sloped downward. I realized that we were standing on top of a hill, while the rest of the village was nestled down below. Suddenly, a black shape thundered across the road down below, coming towards us.

"If we don't start walking, we're going to miss teatime." The Doctor's footsteps rustled the grass as he began walking in the other direction.

Tearing my gaze from the carriage, I turned and followed the Doctor across the grass. Just when we were past the gate of the Brontë's parsonage, the carriage passed us, the two horses at the front almost at a gallop. I glanced at the Doctor, but he only shrugged, following the carriage with his eyes.

"What day is it?" I asked as I watched a man dressed in dark clothes jump out of the carriage, a black bag in his hand. He knocked briskly on the door and was let in immediately, though I couldn't see who had opened the door.

The Doctor's gait slowed. "May 28th, 1849."

I knew the date was familiar, but I had so many author biographies stuffed in my head that I couldn't quite remember why this day was significant. But by the way the Doctor's face fell, I could tell that he knew. "And?"

He paused on the lawn and sighed, shifting his hands into his pockets. "It's the day that Anne Brontë dies."

"And you just _forgot _about this, hm?" I shook my head and swung my book at his shoulder.

"Clara!" the Doctor exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder as if it had been a great blow (though, I suppose, it was a pretty thick book).

"How could you forget about that? How could you possibly look at that date and forget until just now?"

"Time lords forget sometimes too," he muttered.

"Come on," I sighed, turning away from the house. "Let's go a few years later."

The door to the parsonage opened and I looked back to see the gentleman from the carriage step outside, dabbing his face with a handkerchief. He walked to the back of the carriage and leaned against the frame, sighing as his shoulders slumped. After a moment, he glanced up at seemed to realize for the first time that there were two people staring at him.

"Who are you?" he asked, straightening and pocketing his handkerchief.

I was about to inform him that we were just on a walk and about to leave, but the Doctor, of course, had to step forward and speak first.

"Oh, we were just coming to visit the Brontë family, but I see that now probably isn't the best time."

The man shook his head. "No, certainly not. Miss Anne passed just before I arrived, God rest her soul. The family knew it was coming, but they called me anyway, though I'm afraid it was a bit too late." He sighed. "I told them it was tuberculosis, but…" He chuckled. "Well, I don't suppose you would be interested, sir."

The Doctor grinned. "On the contrary, I just happen to be a doctor as well."

"Well, indeed!" The man's expression brightened. "Forgive me, sir, but your attire-"

"A bit odd, I know," the Doctor said, cutting him off. "But you were saying about tuberculosis…?"

The doctor smiled, seeming to be pleased that he was in the presence of someone who would understand him. "Of course, sir. That was my diagnosis: tuberculosis, like it was for her sister and brother before her, and her other two sisters many years ago, I've heard. The symptoms were there, but it came on more suddenly than I've ever seen it before. The same happened with her sister and brother that I treated. The medicine I prescribed only seemed to make it worse."

As the Doctor grinned, I walked to his side, ready to tow him away before he became too interested. But, as I latched on to his arm, he uttered the words which were always bound to get us into trouble.

"Show me."

"Doctor!" I hissed under my breath, tugging on his arm.

The Doctor looked down at me, his eyes wide and bright with excitement. "You wanted to see Charlotte Brontë, didn't you? Here's your chance."

"But not now! She just lost her sister."

He frowned, his piercing blue eyes hardening. "I know. And I need to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to her."

I raised my eyebrows in question. "Sorry?"

But the Doctor did not expand on his cryptic phrase, instead turning to the old doctor who was watching us. "Show her to me," he repeated.

I released my hold on the Doctor as he started walking toward the house, knowing that there was no stopping him now. With a sigh, I followed him up to the door, where the doctor rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. It creaked open before he even had a chance to take his hand away and a servant stood by to let us inside, casting strange glances in my and the Doctor's direction.

"The family aren't taking visitors today," she announced with a note of hesitance, still standing behind the door.

"Good thing we're not visitors then." The Doctor flashed a quick smile and raised his eyebrows at her.

The servant frowned, but closed the door behind us and then scurried in front of the Doctor to lead us down the corridor. I strained my ears, but all I could hear was the creaking of floorboards from above us.

"Pardon me, miss," the doctor whispered from beside me, "but I don't believe I heard either of your names."

"Clara," I responded at the same volume, feeling it was appropriate. "That's the Doctor." I nodded in front of us where he was striding confidently, his head turning from side to side.

The doctor stuck out his hand and I shook it briefly, noticing that his palms were slick. His expression seemed incapable of smoothing out, as if his facial muscles were always this tense. "Robert."

"You're close to this family, aren't you?" I asked, noting that his concern was for more than just a patient's death.

Robert smiled a little. "I don't believe that they would say such a thing, but I would like to think so, yes. And I do so enjoy Miss Brontë's books."

I grinned. "So do I. Even brought a copy to get it signed!" I clutched _Jane Eyre _closer to my chest, suddenly wondering if it had been a good idea to bring a 21st century copy of the book to the 19th century.

A frown deepened the worried lines on Robert's face as we walked up a flight of solid wooden stairs. "I'm not certain that Miss Brontë will do any signing today, but I certainly hope so for your sake, Miss Clara, and hers."

The servant leading us paused in front of a door. Now I could hear the sound of muffled sobbing and my heart sank. What a terrible time to meet one of my favorite authors.

"I'll need to announce you," the servant whispered.

Robert stepped forward. "The Doctor and Miss Clara. And me, of course. Thank you, Jane."

The servant opened the door. Robert pulled out his handkerchief again, wiping it over his face quickly and then clutching it in his fist.

"Dr. Michaelson, the Doctor, and Miss Clara," Jane announced in a quiet voice.

Dr. Michaelson stepped in first, followed by the Doctor and me.

"Who are you?"

My attention was first drawn to the commanding voice of a middle-height man with thinning gray hair, wearing a clergyman's attire. His face was stained with tears and his eyes were still glassy as he looked accusingly at us.

I couldn't help but look at the bed in the corner of the small room, where a human shaped form lied underneath blankets, the head already covered with a sheet. It was hard to tear my gaze away from it, but I did, and focused my attention on the one other person in the room.

I knew her immediately from the old pictures on the Internet, but what they hadn't captured were her eyes. They almost reminded me of the Doctor's, the way they were brimming with insight and so bright despite the pain they had undoubtedly seen. Though her complexion was pale, there were no traces of tears anywhere on her face. Perhaps it was because she had seen this same scene all too many times.

Finally, the Doctor broke the silence and stepped toward Mr. Brontë. I'm not sure what I really expected him to do, but it was certainly far from what he actually did.

"Mr. Brontë," he addressed him in a low voice, "I'm the Doctor."

"You're too late." His voice shook as he looked to the corner of the room. "She's already gone."

The Doctor leaned forward and the floorboards squeaked. I was surprised at the amount of emotion in his next sentence, though I then remembered how sensitive he was about fathers and their daughters. "I know, and I'm so…so sorry." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "But what I can do is make sure that your last daughter is safe."

Pivoting on his toes, the Doctor rushed to the corner of the room and waved his sonic screwdriver over Anne's body. Its thrumming hum filled the room, continuing on for several seconds.

"What is that device?" Charlotte asked, stepping next to me. In the back of my mind I noted that we were almost exactly the same height.

I smiled to myself. My first words to Charlotte Brontë were going to be explaining a sonic screwdriver. "It's just sort of a…thing. Don't worry, it's harmless."

The Doctor straightened and examined the screwdriver. "Oh," he murmured.

"What? Was it just…natural?" I asked.

He drummed the sonic against his palm. "No. It's exactly as I thought." Turning his head, he looked back at me with an intense gaze. "And that's much worse."

The Doctor spun around, pointing his sonic screwdriver straight at Charlotte Brontë.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked with an air of indignation, backing up against the wall.

"Scanning," he muttered absentmindedly as he waved the screwdriver up and down.

Mr. Brontë suddenly stirred, taking a step toward the Doctor. "Enough with your witchcraft and strange words." He pointed to the door. "I must ask you to leave now."

The Doctor's eyes went wide and he held out his hands in a disarming gesture. "No. I'm staying because your daughter needs help, and I'm the only one who can help her."

"Why?" he countered, his voice rising in volume. "And why should I trust you?"

"Because he's the Doctor." I spoke in a quiet voice, hoping to lower the tension in the room. Mr. Brontë sighed and relaxed, though a skeptical expression remained on his face. "It's what he does," I continued. "It's _all_ he does, every day and any day: he helps people. I've seen him do it a thousand times, and he never fails."

Dr. Michaelson stepped toward the center of the room. "I also believe that there were other factors to Anne's death, God rest her soul. I think this man knows what he's doing."

Meanwhile, I noticed that the Doctor was paying no attention to us speaking on his behalf. Instead, he was examining his sonic screwdriver, which was glowing and had its top extended. As soon as Dr. Michaelson stopped talking, the Doctor smiled and exclaimed, "Ha!"

We all looked to him as he continued, "It's all right, I've put you on speaker so that everyone can hear you."

I jumped as an eerie high-pitched voice hummed from the screwdriver. "Who…are…you?"

"Where is that voice coming from?" Mr. Brontë asked, clenching his hands together and looking around the room.

"Charlotte," I answered as the completed puzzle presented itself in my head. "Whatever was in Anne is now in Charlotte." I looked at the Doctor. "Am I right?"

He nodded once. "Spot on, Teach."

"It's what's been killing the entire family." I looked at Charlotte, and then at the sonic screwdriver. "But why? Is it a parasite or something?"

The voice spoke again. "I must…feed."

"Yes, I know," the Doctor said, looking at Charlotte. "But these aren't the animals you're used to. These are human beings, and you can't feed on them until they die away."

Charlotte turned very pale, her eyes growing ever wider. Setting _Jane Eyre _down on a chair, I rushed to her side and grabbed her hand, pressing it gently. "You're going to be okay," I said in an undertone. "What is it?" I asked, looking at the Doctor.

"You're one of the Srycoins, aren't you?" the Doctor asked the sonic screwdriver. "Better known as the Parasites," he added, looking at me.

The thing didn't answer, and the Doctor seemed to take that as a confirmation. "Why are you here? Your species relocated centuries ago."

"Our ship got off course and then…crashed," the voice said, taking on a squeaking tone which I took to be mournful. "My family died."

The Doctor sighed. "Let me guess: Mrs. Brontë found the ship a long time ago, maybe even when she was a little girl, and you thought it was the perfect meal of a lifetime. And after you used her up, you moved on to her children, sucking each one dry before you moved onto the next."

"I was starving. I had no choice."

"No choice?" The Doctor laughed sarcastically. "This world is full of stupid animals and insects, but no, you had to pick a human." He ran a hand over his face. "You probably don't even know the difference. But it doesn't matter, because it ends here." He pointed his sonic at Charlotte, and I felt her tense beside me. "Get out of her, and I'll take you home."

"I cannot."

The Doctor's expression hardened. "Oh yes you can. Out. Now."

The voice turned to a plaintive wail. "I will die."

"I know it's hard to adapt to a new food source after you've fed on one for so long, but you've killed enough people. You have to try." He took a step toward Charlotte. "And if you don't, I'll have to force you out, and I can't promise it will be painless."

Charlotte squeezed my hand as the Doctor's expression darkened. Several seconds of silence ticked by, the whole room holding its breath. Charlotte closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly. Suddenly, a tiny black thing passed out of Charlotte's lips, so small I wouldn't have seen it if I wouldn't have been looking for it. I could hardly believe that something so small could cause so much damage.

The Doctor grinned and pocketed his sonic screwdriver, holding out his arms and cupping his hands. "That's it. Come here."

The little dot floated through the air, and I lost track of it until it landed on the Doctor's fingertip. "Hello there," he said, leaning his head down toward his hands. "Yes, I'll help you find a new food source on your new planet. It should work. At least, I hope it will." He paused. "No, they can't hear us. Only I'm psychic." Another pause. The Doctor swallowed, seeming reluctant to answer to the small alien. "I am," he said finally, his eyes softening with sadness.

Suddenly, the alien whizzed from his finger, but I couldn't tell where it went. "No!" the Doctor exclaimed, lunging toward the door. He ran out into the corridor, but he only gripped the doorframe and sighed, his hand by his side clenching into a fist.

I ran out the door after him. I couldn't see anything down the corridor, so I turned to the Doctor just as he hung his head.

"Doctor? Where's it gone?"

"Away." He pulled his sonic out of his pocket and extended the tip, sighing as it buzzed. "Yes, far away from here, and it won't ever come back." He began striding down the corridor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I looked back into the room, where three pairs of eyes were staring at me.

I walked quickly back inside and went straight to Charlotte. "Are you okay?" I asked, putting my hands on her shoulders.

"Yes, thank you." She smiled a little, her eyes alight with curiosity. "But what was that…thing?"

"I think all of us should like to know," Dr. Michaelson added.

I pressed my lips together, wondering if there was a way to explain it that wouldn't make me sound completely mad. "Er…"

"Clara!" the Doctor called.

I huffed and shook my head. Of course, the Doctor _would _bring me to meet one of my favorite authors and then give me no time to actually speak to her. "Think that's my cue," I said apologetically. "Goodbye Robert, Mr. Brontë, Charlotte." I turned to her last and grinned. "And, by the way, I have to tell you that I'm a _huge _fan of your books." And with that, I ran out of the room to catch up with the Doctor, hearing Charlotte mutter, "Fan…?" behind me.

"Doctor!" I reached him just as he was striding through the ground floor of the house, his sour mood practically tangible. The servant, Jane, opened the door for us. The Doctor walked right past her while I muttered a thank you and then jogged to catch up with the Doctor's long strides. He made it two steps onto the lawn before I grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

"Doctor." Keeping a hold on him lest he storm off, I stood in front of him and looked into his eyes as hard as flint. "It's not your fault that it didn't want your help."

He smiled, one of his smiles that chilled me because it was so sarcastic, so cold, before it quickly faded into a frown. "Ah, but it _was _my fault."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "How?"

He began walking again, but slower now. I let go of his arm and fell in step beside him.

"You heard me say that the Srycoins relocated. It was because their planet was destroyed..." He glanced over at me quickly before focusing his eyes ahead. "…by the Time War. They were innocents, caught in the crossfire."

"Oh." I pressed my lips together, suddenly understanding why the Doctor was so cross all of a sudden. "But that's not necessarily _your _fault, is it?"

He hung his head and sighed, waiting several seconds before answering. "I was there. I remember the planet burning." He slowed to a halt and raised his eyes just enough to look at me. "The Srycoin didn't want to have anything to do with a time lord, and I don't blame it."

"You tried to help and you did everything you could. That's all you _can _do."

But my words seemed to fall on deaf ears. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued on in the direction of where we had parked the TARDIS.

I decided that if I couldn't cheer him up, then the next tactic was to make him think about something else. I looped my arm through his, but he didn't react to the contact. "You never told me," I said simply, hoping it would grab his attention.

He looked over at me, his eyebrows knitting together in question. "Never told you what?"

"That look in the console room earlier." I nudged my shoulder against his. "I didn't forget."

"Oh, it was only a bit of…remembering."

"Remembering what, exactly?" I prodded. (Sometimes getting a straight answer out of him is as difficult as pulling teeth).

Though his expression remained unchanged, his eyes brightened with the possibility of a smile that almost came, but never did. "Right now, you look almost exactly like you did when I knew you as a nanny in Victorian London."

I looked down at my dress once more, though it was no use because I still didn't really remember the copies of me that had saved the Doctor. I got flashes, sometimes, from the many different lives I had lived, but that was all. "I do?"

"Identical. I think the TARDIS gave you that dress on purpose." He squinted at me. "Only I think it was blue instead of red."

"Why would the TARDIS do that?"

He did smile this time, only a little. "She likes to remind me of things I forget. Like hope. She must have known I'd need it today."

I smiled, noting that he seemed much more cheerful now. "Should I title this one: 'The Doctor Finds Hope in a Dress,' then?"

He looked at me with wide eyes, uncomprehending.

I laughed at his bewildered expression. "For the blog," I explained.

"Don't you dare. Besides, it's not the dress, it's _you." _He sighed and shook his head. "This is why I don't try to be nice. No one seems to appreciate it."

"I do." I smiled up at him. "Really, I do."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips again. "So, what do you say we pop ahead a couple years and have tea with Charlotte Brontë."

"Seriously?" I could see the TARDIS not too far away now, a blob of blue against a field of green. "Are you sure you're okay, though?" I added, looking back up at him. His bad mood seemed to have passed, but I could never be sure with him.

"Clara Oswald," he sighed, "I'm always okay."


	6. Something about Snow

**A/N: If anyone's wondering about the scooter reference at the end, it comes from _The Blood Cell _by James Goss. I just couldn't resist. It's a really good Doctor Who novel! :)**

_**Context: This follows Left Handed-Lemon's story The Mind-Prowlers. Clara reached 50 followers on her blog so the Doctor suggested that they celebrate with a trip and Clara said she wanted to go somewhere new and relaxing...and this is the result. **_

"No threatening aliens?"

"Nope."

"No black holes or extreme seasons that change dangerously fast?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I told you, nothing threatening. You said you wanted to go somewhere relaxing."

I narrowed my gaze at him. It was never 'just a relaxing trip' when it came to the Doctor. "How do you know?"

"I checked." He gestured to the monitor. "There aren't even any significant life forms on this side of the planet. Just some small animals."

"And that's supposed to reassure me how?" I placed my hands on my hips, raising my eyebrows at him. There had to be a flaw in his little plan; there always was.

He shrugged. "Maybe the people just don't like the cold. It's spring on the other side of the planet."

_The cold? _I wondered. I raised myself onto my toes so that I could see the monitor over the Doctor's shoulder. Normally, for me, _relaxing _went hand in hand with _warm, _but it didn't really surprise me that the Doctor had thought the complete opposite.

"No." The Doctor took notice of my efforts and pushed the monitor around the console. "Remember, it's a surprise!" he said, accompanying the last word with wide eyes and wiggling fingers.

"Yeah, and that's the reason I'm worried. Remember what happened last time you tried to surprise me? That's why I said no more surprises."

The Doctor waved his hands in front of him. "No no no, this time is different."

"Are you _sure _there's not some ulterior motive here?"

The Doctor leaned his arm against the console and grinned. "Clara, I _can _be nice sometimes, on rare occasions. I just want to take you somewhere relaxing and new. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I searched his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie. But, as far as I could see, he seemed to be telling the truth. "Sure it's still you up there?" I asked with a chuckle, tapping my finger against his forehead.

The Doctor's smile faded into a frown and I immediately knew how careless I had been to say such a thing. We hadn't directly spoken about the last time we had been together with the Mind-Prowlers, but I knew from the Doctor's retelling of the story that having his mind taken over was an experience he'd rather forget.

I watched his eyes flicker to my throat, where I knew there was still a faint bruise from when his hands had tried to squeeze the life out of me. I swallowed as a reflex reaction and looked down as the images I had been trying so hard to repress welled up in my mind. All I could see were _his _eyes, the eyes I had trusted, glaring down at me in hate; _his _hands, the hands that had served to comfort me so many times, reaching for my throat to slowly kill me.

I knew it wasn't something I would ever forget.

"Clara…" he murmured hesitantly, as if he knew where my thoughts were.

"I'm fine." I forced a cheery tone, pushing the memory to the back of my mind, and attempted a smile at the Doctor. "Really, I'm fine."

"Of course you're not fine." His hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides and his gaze grew darker. "No one would ever be fine after something like that."

I could see the self-loathing in his eyes; how much he hated that I had been dragged into the whole affair with the Mind-Prowlers. How typical of him to blame himself even when he had had no control over his own mind. "Doctor." I reached for one of his hands and his fingers uncurled, grasping my hand. I took a step closer to him and tilted my head so I could look him in the eye. "I'm okay. It's not the worst thing that's happened to me, anyway." I squeezed his hand. "Really. And thank you for this," I added, nodding to the console. "I know you'd rather be saving an alien race or something."

"Well." The corners of his lips turned upward in a small smile and his eyes brightened. "Fifty followers is definitely something to celebrate."

I chuckled as he turned, pulling his hand from my grasp, and twisted a control on the console. The lights in the room came to life as the TARDIS began to whine and groan.

"Go and find something warm to wear," the Doctor said without turning. "I wouldn't want you to freeze to death."

Walking around the console, I patted his arm. "Very considerate of you, Doctor." I grinned at him, and then rushed out of the room to find a coat.

* * *

Snow crunched under my boots as I stepped out of the TARDIS and into a world of white. I inhaled a deep breath, the scent of pine and the crisp, winter air making me smile. My ears immediately picked up the sound of different musical notes being played softly at random and I paused, searching for the source of the noise. If anyone were close by they would be easy to see against the stark white backdrop of the snow, which was still gently falling.

I took another step and the chilling wind stung my cheeks. I pulled the hood of my coat over my head, which almost entirely muffled the sound of the music. I looked up into the trees, completely covered with snow apart from a few patches of dark green peeking through, and wondered if the musical notes could be coming from a bird of some sort.

"Do you hear it?"

Though I didn't turn, by the creaking of the TARDIS door and the footfalls I knew the Doctor stood just behind me.

"Yeah." I crossed my arms, wondering if I was missing something obvious about where the sound was coming from. "What is it?"

The Doctor took a step to the side so that he was right next to me. He reached out to tug my hood down to my shoulders, looking at me with wide, excited eyes. "Listen," he whispered as he placed his hands in his pockets and gazed into the forest ahead.

I shivered at the sudden loss of warmth around my head, but I decided to obey what the Doctor had said. I closed my eyes and listened to the distinct musical notes that were sounding every single moment, many notes even sounding at once. Though I was no musician, I couldn't hear any distinct pattern in the notes being played and I couldn't give a name to the instrument playing them, either; something almost like a stringed instrument like a violin…but not quite.

"I don't get it," I murmured after a few moments. Opening my eyes, I turned and looked at the Doctor. "What is it?" I repeated.

He seemed frozen for a moment, his eyes shut and his chest expanded like he was in the middle of taking a deep breath. Suddenly he exhaled, his eyes blinking open. "Watch." He pointed to a falling snowflake, his eyes following it on its journey down. I trained my gaze on it, determined not to lose it amidst the other falling snow, though it was an impossible task and I lost sight of it. There were many other snowflakes to watch, however, and I noticed that at the same time it one the ground, I heard one of the musical notes.

My mouth fell open in surprise. "The snow?" I grinned, grabbing the Doctor's arm and shaking him. "Oh my god, is it really the snow?"

He smiled, his gaze swooping downwards as he followed the journey of another snowflake. "Right now, the ground is vibrating, imperceptible to you, but enough so that when the ice crystals touch the ground, they're like fingers plucking a string."

"Even through all this snow?" I gazed in wonder at the layer of snow on the ground, watching as the little snowflakes produced the music. "How does that even work?" I chuckled and shook my head, marveling at how wonderful the universe was. "It shouldn't even be possible."

The Doctor nodded. "You're right. It's not possible on Earth. Different planet, different rules." He looked up at the pale blue sky and took a few steps forward. "Come on, we have to get going."

I fell in step beside him. "Oh yeah? Where're we goin'?"

"A cave just a little ways through here," he said, pointing through the trees. "There's something else you need to see. Or, rather, _hear."_

* * *

I crossed my arms over my chest as the frigid air began to seep through my coat. A shiver ran down my spine as I continued watching the world past the mouth of the cave. The snow was falling much more steadily now, the resulting notes beginning to clash and sound more strident.

"Is there going to be a storm?" I called back into the cave.

"Yes," the Doctor stated matter-of-factly, "and there's no need to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine."

I turned my head, seeing the Doctor's grey hair standing out amidst the blackness of the cave. "Did you forget to check the weather again?"

"No." A red flame sprouted further back in the cave, illuminating the rest of the Doctor's figure. "The snowstorms here are incredible to watch and listen to." He waved me towards him. "Better come back here, though. It _is_ a snowstorm so I wouldn't want you to get frozen."

I grinned, excited at the prospect of seeing something amazing and new. I stood up and walked to the back of the cave, crouching down in front of the small fire. "Where'd you get the wood?" I suddenly wondered, realizing that neither of us had left the cave since we had reached it.

"It was in here." The Doctor stretched his hands toward the fire. "There might not be enough to last the storm so I'm going to get some more. I saw another pile right outside of the cave," he explained, pointing a finger outside.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Wait. But that means…"

"People were here. I know. But I don't think they're here anymore. Like I said, the scanner didn't pick up any lifeforms bigger than a squirrel." He waved a hand at me. "It's fine. Now I'll be right back." He straightened and turned toward the entrance to the cave.

I stood after him, looking out into the snow that was falling in such a frenzied pattern that the resultant notes were becoming chaotic and dissonant. "Be careful, Doctor."

He turned and rolled his eyes at me. "Clara, you worry too much. It's just outside of the cave. I'll be back in seconds."

Pressing my lips together, I nodded and watched him exit the cave, his dark coat visible through the falling snow. An uneasy feeling settled itself into my gut, though I wasn't quite sure why. I could still see the Doctor as he bent down, gathering wood in his arms.

Suddenly the ground rumbled and showers of dirt and rock rained down on me. I watched the Doctor straighten outside and run toward the cave at the same time as I ran towards him, but we weren't fast enough. A waterfall of boulders and snow cascaded down from the top of the cave, piling up at the entrance. I retreated to the back wall as several of the huge rocks tumbled into the cave, leaving trails of snow in their wake.

"Clara!" I heard the Doctor shouting my name, but all I could do was watch as the rocks and snow clogged the entrance of the cave. I didn't want to get close for fear that a rock would hit me.

Finally the downpour stopped, though the rocks still clattered and shifted, a few coming loose and toppling into the cave. I waited a few moments, taking in deep breaths as I looked over the large rocks strewn all over the cave and the gigantic pile blocking the entrance.

I edged toward the mouth of the cave, wary of the rocks balancing precariously on top of each other high above me. Snow blew through several gaps in the makeshift wall and I tried to look through one to no avail. The storm was too violent for me to see anything other than the swirling snow that whipped in my face.

"Doctor?" I called, my mouth as close to the hole as I could get it. I didn't hear anything in reply, but it might have been impossible to talk over the cacophony of clashing notes just barely muted by the rock wall. Was he hurt? Could a rock have hit him? How was I going to get out of here?

I pressed closer to the gap and shouted as loud as I could, _"Doctor!" _

A chill ran down my spine. The Doctor still hadn't responded, and the flurrying snow in my face was beginning to take its toll on me. I shuffled to the back of the cave, inhaling a whiff of smoke, and looked down to see that one of the large rocks had smothered the fire.

Before I had time to consider whether I should build another fire, I heard a grating, scraping noise coming from behind me. I jumped and turned, but there was nothing besides the cave wall. Yet, the scratching sound continued. I listened for a moment, taking a step closer. Was it coming from _behind _the wall?

My question was answered for me as a small portion of the wall, just enough for a person my height to get through, crumbled into rocks and dirt that spilled out onto the cave floor. I took several steps backward and hardly dared to breathe, waiting for whatever was behind the wall.

Three people emerged, their heads just low enough to get through the makeshift doorway. Black animal fur covered their bodies from head to toe, leaving only their faces exposed to reveal pale skin and sunset orange eyes. Each one carried a crude spear in their hand. With two arms and legs, they seemed humanoid, but all the same they were people. I thought back earlier to what the Doctor had said about there not being anything bigger than a squirrel.

"I'm so goin' to kill him," I muttered to myself as the three aliens trained their startlingly bright eyes on me. The one in front, who I presumed to be the leader, pointed at me with his spear as the other two circled behind me. "Come."

I hesitated, glancing behind me at the clogged cave mouth. Where was the Doctor?

A sharp point poked into my back and I raised my hands in the hair, taking a step forward. "Okay, I'm goin'." But as soon as I raised my foot to take another step, a thunderous rumble shook the cave. I turned, along with the three aliens, to see the rocks beginning to shift and fall into the cave.

I had been with the Doctor long enough to know that this was my cue.

With the aliens distracted and avoiding the massive boulders, I ran, maneuvering my way through the tumbling rocks until I reached the mouth of the cave. There was now a sizable hole in the rock wall, and I waited a few moments for the rocks to settle before jumping on top of a rock and poking my head into the dim daylight. Snow flew into my eyes, blinding me and sending a chill straight through me.

"Clara!"

I sighed with relief as I heard the Doctor's yell above the noisy snow, though it seemed far away. I tried to open my eyes and look for him, but it was a futile effort; the storm was still too violent and snow instantly blocked my vision. I wondered if he saw me, or if he was calling for me to figure out where I was. I jumped and waved my arms, shouting "Doctor!" at the top of my lungs. All I could do was stand there and wait, hoping that he saw me.

"Clara." Relief saturated the Doctor's tone as his arms wrapped around me and pulled me from the hole. Just as I was clear of the cave, I heard a whoosh and blinked my eyes open in time to see a spear fly out of the hole I had just been in. I rubbed my hands over my eyes as snow coated my eyelashes, feeling infinitely grateful for the Doctor's timing.

The Doctor grabbed my hand and pulled on my arm. "Come on!"

"Can't see!" I exclaimed in frustration. I knew that sight would be essential when climbing down what remained of the rock wall.

I heard the Doctor groan, but he didn't waste another second before picking me up and making his way down the rocks. He grunted a couple times, and I noticed an unusual pattern in the way he was stepping. Was he...limping?

"Doctor-?"

"You know, for such a small person you're very heavy." He inhaled sharply as he stepped down with his left foot and quickly shifted onto his right.

I ignored the comment, more worried about him at the moment. "Are you hurt?"

He said nothing, but after a few moments he set my feet on the ground. A distant yell sounded from behind us, just loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of the snow.

"Run!" The Doctor took my hand and pulled me after him. Something zinged by my ear and thudded into a nearby tree.

_They're chasing after us, _I thought.

Using my free hand, I wiped the snow from my eyes and opened them. We were a little deeper into the forest now and the snow was a little less intense, though I still had to squint in order to see. I looked over at the Doctor, covered from head to foot in snow, and realized that I must have looked just the same. But I also noticed that he was definitely stepping lightly on his left foot.

"What happened?" I asked him, looking back over my shoulder to see if the aliens were close. I could see them, though far behind.

"Easy. I just had to push the correct rock to create an imbalance so that the wall would crumble."

I nodded. "Right, but I meant what happened to your foot."

"Oh." He looked down. "A rock landed on it." He grimaced as his left foot hit the ground. "I think my big toe is broken."

I shook my head at him. "Is that a thing you do now? Break your toes?"

"Twice," he muttered quietly. "It's only happened twice." Clenching his jaw, he picked up speed to run along side me.

"Still think you need a scooter." I grinned over at him, hoping to maybe take his mind off the pain with our silly bantering.

The Doctor frowned at me. "Shut up."

* * *

We panted hard just inside the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor leaning his right shoulder against the wall. I brushed the snow from my face and sighed, grateful for the warmth.

_"No. More. Surprises," _I said in between breaths. I straightened and threw a light punch at the Doctor's arm. He turned his head to look at me, eyes wide with incredulity.

"No lifeforms bigger than a _squirrel?" _I raised my eyebrows at him.

He lifted his hand to clear some snow from his hair. "Scanner must be a bit faulty. I'll check into it." Raising his left foot to take a step in the direction of the console, he paused.

I stepped over to his side and guided his arm around my shoulders. "We have to take care of this first, Mr. Broken Toe." I wrapped my arm around his back and raised myself on my toes so he wouldn't have to bend down so far in order to lean on me. He hobbled forward a step and I smiled up at him. "See, if we had a scooter, this would be so much easier."

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes, but I could just see the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a smile.


End file.
